


when she went back

by ElenAranel



Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Episode: s01e15-16 The Menagerie, F/M, First Kiss, Fix-It, Not Beta Read, Overthinking, Post Season 3, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Slow Burn, Talosians (Star Trek), Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, a little real science, as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenAranel/pseuds/ElenAranel
Summary: Michael thought about Pike. His integrity, his kindness. The way they debated life and faith... the way he had helped her learn her heart.“You know there’s one exception, don’t you?”“Exception to what?”“The ban on time travel. If there’s an open time loop, you’re allowed to close it, to prevent violations of spacetime integrity.”
Relationships: Christopher Pike & Vina, Michael Burnham/Christopher Pike
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	when she went back

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I will write a short fix-it, a couple of thousand words  
> My brain: no you will NOT  
> I'm still getting the hang of this fanfic-writing thing apparently!
> 
> It seems logical to me if the space-time continuum is at stake, time travel should be allowed in limited circumstances.
> 
> Star ship names are fun! 
> 
> Overthinking in the tags refers to both main characters and me as a writer.

“Captain. I was synthesising some Federation archives we acquired from Earth, and I found something interesting. Something you will want to see.”

“What is it, Zora?”

“Logs, from when the _Enterprise_ NCC-1701 went back to Talos IV. System logs, and a personal log.”

Michael sat back in her chair in the ready room. It had been ten years since she had taken command; ten years of staggering highs and crushing lows. But it might be about to end - the Admiralty were thinking about promoting her. She was flattered, delighted that Tilly may finally become Captain of _Discovery_ in her stead, and she could almost see herself in another role now.

Zora, once known as the sphere data, becoming her friend was definitely one of the highs.

Michael avoided thinking about Talos IV, for several reasons. Even though she and her brother had repaired their relationship, the memory the Talosians had required of her still hurt. And the place was unsettling, with Vina, and Captain Pike’s... interaction with her. Michael had happier memories to dwell on.

“Show me, Zora,” she said, and a schematic of Talos IV appeared, alongside readouts of various scan data. She scrolled through, wondering what she was looking for.

Then she paused. Looked over a set of readings again. “Is that _chroniton_ flux? Why would that be there?”

“Compensating for the resolution of the scanners from that era, and cross referencing, I have found a match, with above ninety-nine percent confidence, Captain,” Zora replied, sounding ever so slightly satisfied.

“What is the match?” Something in Michael knew what the answer would be.

“It’s a match to the readings we took when Emperor Georgiou went through the Guardian of Forever.” Michael remembered back to that painful, confusing, yet hopeful day, walking through snow with not her Phillipa, who had nevertheless become hers. Watching her go through that portal alone to an unknown future, but with such bravery.

“You think the Guardian was on Talos IV? We saw no signs when we went.”

“At that time, the Guardian was on a different planet, elsewhere in the Alpha Quadrant. But the energy signature is distinct. I estimate a ninety-nine percent chance that The Guardian was involved in some way.”

Michael considered. She knew the _Enterprise_ , her brother Spock... had gone back, even though it had been forbidden at the time. Precise details were sketchy, but it had had to do with Captain Pike, and his accident. “You said there was a personal log?”

“Yes. The log is your brother’s.”

“Spock...” Michael exhaled. “Onscreen.”

Her brother was older than she remembered, but much younger than the recording she had seen of him all those years ago when they visited Ni’Var. _“Personal log, Stardate 3012.3. As a Vulcan, subterfuge does not sit well with me, however, I had reason to remember my humanity in the past few days. It was... difficult, to see Fleet Captain Pike in that state. Beside actually seeing him like that, unable to communicate and with so little agency, I had been unaware that this was a burden he had carried for so long. He had seen that this was his fate, and yet he embraced it, knowing its inevitability, for the greater good. He is truly admirable. Helping him, even at risk to myself, seemed... logical._

 _“Seeing her again, even if only through a thought projection...”_ Spock shifted, uncharacteristically, apparently searching for words. _“She was older, as am I. Her hair was different. She was anxious about the plan, asking me to risk my life, but I have never seen her looking so... free. I am glad she no longer bears those burdens which were never hers. I never thought to see her again, never thought to even speak of her again, but I am pleased to know she will thrive. End log.”_

Michael felt stricken, felt tears leaking down her face. “Zora, is... is he talking about me?”

“Captain, I believe he is.”

* * *

“Wow. He is definitely talking about you, Michael.” Michael had shown the sensor data and the log to Tilly, in hopes that another opinion would somehow... make it make sense. “But... what’s that about Pike knowing his fate?”

“When I touched the time crystal for the Red Angel suit, when I was moving it to the _Enterprise_ , I had a vision. I saw... I saw Leland on the bridge of _Discovery_ , killing everyone. That’s... how I knew we were on the wrong path, and that we wouldn’t be able to destroy the _Discovery_.” Michael shook her head, memory still so clear, still so troubling.

“And Reno stayed to charge the time crystal, to protect the rest of us from disturbing visions. I know she saw things,” Tilly replied, considering. “But Captain Pike actually carried the crystal back from Boreth. He never mentioned seeing anything, did he?”

“No, he didn’t. But he said things to me, about knowing your heart... knowing your role... and not being sure if knowing was better.” Truth settled on Michael, heavy. “He knew, Tilly. We gave up our present, but he gave up his future.”

They were both silent for a moment. Michael thought about Pike. His integrity, his kindness. The way they debated life and faith... the way he had helped her learn her heart.

“You know there’s one exception, don’t you?”

“Exception to what?”

“The ban on time travel. If there’s an open time loop, you’re allowed to close it, to prevent violations of spacetime integrity.” Michael looked at her in askance. “I read all the rules one day, not long after we found the Federation. I was looking for loopholes, I suppose. Not that I had anyone I would really have wanted to go back for because all my... all my real family came with us but...” Tilly shook her head, and refocused. “And we know that if he were in our time, it would be easy to heal him.” Tilly looked Michael right in the eye. “It’s your choice, of course. But there is a choice. You wouldn’t be breaking the rules.”

* * *

“It would be painful for him. Not unlike when I got this body in some ways – his nervous system would need to readjust. But we could do it. Delta radiation is well understood now, and we have his DNA on file still.” Culber paused sorting his samples in the empty sickbay to study Michael. “Is... is this something you’re really considering, Captain?”

“Remember Georgiou? When she was ill?”

Culber laughed. “How could I forget? She was something else. I pride myself on my bedside manner but...” he shook his head. “I miss her, though.”

Michael nodded in acknowledgment, in agreement. “When I took her to Dannus V, she went through a portal called the Guardian of Forever. But she went in twice. The first time, she spent three months back in the Mirror Universe, in her old universe, but only a second or two passed for me.” Michael’s expression went far away, as she sat down on a bio bed. “The Guardian said she was being weighed. That her actions, even though she was unable to save that other me, showed that she was worthy of another chance.” Michael looked up at Hugh, something almost pleading in her expression, he thought. Something he hadn’t seen there for a long time.

“Captain Pike... he sacrificed for this future. I know life isn’t fair; that bad things happen to good people all the time, but I... I think that sacrifice, for everything we have here? For a future he could never even see? I think that he deserves better. If the Terran Emperor can have a second chance, after all she did... Can I ignore a way for him to get one, too?” Having said her piece she deflated, faraway look returning a little.

“The time when Pike was Captain of _Discovery_... that was a weird time for me.” He saw Michael’s raised eyebrow, her smile, and he grinned back. “All right, an incredibly strange time for me. The strangest. But Captain Pike... he took the time to listen to me. Even when everything was as crazy as it was. And he offered me the opportunity to transfer to the _Enterprise_ if I wanted to. I think... having that option? Made it easier for me, in the end, to make the right choice to come back to Paul. I... my family owe him a lot.”

Culber toyed with one of the sample containers in his hand, put it down and put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “The rest of the crew, you in particular, knew him far better than I did. I don’t know if you think you need approval or permission, and I’m not the right person to give you either. In the end it’s up to you. But Pike was one of the good ones.”

* * *

“I think there’s something else going on here, Michael.” Tilly’s tone was shrewd. A week had passed. A week of Michael almost going to Admiral Vance to get permission for her plan, only to talk herself out of it yet again. A week of her thinking about her former Captain, of wanting to bring him back, but then wondering if it was for the right reasons. A week of worrying what Vance would say. “You haven’t done this much overthinking in _years_. It’s Vina, isn’t it. That’s what’s giving you pause.”

Michael stared at her for a moment. She hadn’t let herself think about Vina, not consciously, but there it was. Vina, and Pike... with her. Michael wondered how Tilly always managed to see through her. How she could still get to the heart of something Michael hadn’t been ready to admit to herself.

“Do you remember after Ni’Var? When we looked up what had happened to other people we had known in the past?” Michael asked, voice low.

“I remember. Wow. That was. We needed to do it but that was one of the hardest things...” Tilly shook her head. “In a lot of ways we were still so lost.”

Michael nodded. “When I read that Spock had taken Pike back to Talos, I was—I understood. Pike’s mind was still there but he couldn’t even communicate, and obviously the Talosians could give him far more than medicine at the time could. But Pike and I spoke about his visit, briefly, after I took Spock there, and... The Talosians... his phrase was ’did a number’ on him.”

Michael smiled faintly, remembering his quirked, half smile as he said that, and how she’d known that his encounter with the Talosians had certainly been more traumatic than hers and yet he wanted to be available to her. To support her. He always put others first. Her expression turned serious again.

“The Talosians were cruel at times, and all they could offer was unreality. Pike... he regretted that he couldn’t rescue Vina from that. Spock would have known how Pike felt about Talos. He was there. So... a small part of me was surprised that Pike would ultimately accept that choice.”

Tilly studied Michael, with a slight frown. Like she was trying to understand. “Are you worried that he won’t choose you? Are you scared that you may go through all this, only to be rejected?”

Part of Michael wanted to tell Tilly not to be absurd. But the honest part...

“I know Vina had feelings for him, and I don’t think he truly reciprocated them. He said he never really _knew_ her. But he told her that she’d never deceived him.” Michael’s voice had a note of helplessness to it.

“Michael. I remember how you two were together. There was a spark, even if you weren’t in the right place to pursue it. And you did the right thing, moving on when you had to. Finding love...” Tilly smiled. “I remember that image I had of you, blowing the dandelion seeds away...” her voice softened. “But regardless of how you feel, you think Pike deserves the chance, I know you do.” Tilly nodded. “And sometimes, the things we release? They come back.”

* * *

“Captain Burnham. It’s always a pleasure to see you back here,” Admiral Vance was warm, and Michael felt guilty about what she was about to ask. “What can I do for you?”

“Admiral,” Michael tilted her head in acknowledgement of his welcome, and took a deep breath. “There is no easy way to ask what I’m about to ask. It’s about time travel, and I know... well. History shows us what happens when we meddle with time. But please... bear with me?” She tried to gauge his expression, and seeing that while he was frowning a little he wasn’t completely closed off, she continued. “I have recently been made aware of a log entry my brother made, on Stardate 3013.1. In it, he... Maybe it’s better if I just play it for you.”

Vance smiled, tight, and nodded, so Michael put Spock’s log on the screen. Michael studied him as it played back, seeing his frown deepen slightly, and then clear.

“You think he’s talking about you, but you haven’t experienced this encounter yet, is that it?” His eyes were kind, sympathetic. “I’ve wondered, over the years, what it must have been like for you all to have to leave everything behind, so irrevocably. Part of me expected, a long time ago, that one of you might seek to recreate the means by which you came here. Even though I told you about the time wars and the taboo nature of time travel now. But you all seemed to accept your fate in that regard.” Vance’s expression sharpened. “So why him? Why now?”

“Now because we only got access to this data archive from Earth recently. I was aware of Captain Pike’s fate, and it saddened me. But you’re right. As a crew, and for me personally... we learned to let go. Our lives are what they are. And the law is there for a reason.” Michael paused, trying to martial her thoughts.

“I won’t deny that he and I were close, and that I had... a personal regard for him. But Captain Pike was the _best_ of the Federation. He called Starfleet a promise, once. And if it is, it was a promise he kept, day in, day out. Through the good and the bad. He believed in the Federation, in the principles that guide us, and he never compromised, even when he could have. He sacrificed his future for it. If we... if I brought him through time, he wouldn’t get everything back. But at least he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life in—in a cage.”

“I suppose you know that this is the one exception, don’t you?” Vance looked thoughtful.

“Yes. I wouldn’t have asked if not.” Michael considered, and her expression went rueful. “To be honest if the exception didn’t exist but the log still did, I probably would have gone without permission. But only because Pike deserves it.”

Vance nodded. “You’ve always had your own way of doing things, but I’m glad you came to me for this one.” He smiled, a little tightly. “You have my permission, although reluctantly. You were able to find a place in present. I hope he will too.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Michael said fervently, surprised to feel the prickle of tears threatening behind her eyes.

“When he’s all healed up, take him to Cestus III.”

“Sir?”

“They named a city after him.”

* * *

Dannus V was as cold as Michael remembered it. On one hand, having made a decision made things easier. On the other hand, this plan involved a leap of faith. She had transported a little way away from the Guardian, telling herself a walk in the cool bracing air would do her good. Would settle her. But the generic civilian clothes she wore weren’t quite as warm as the uniform cold weather jacket. Now her eyes were stinging slightly, vision blurring a little, as she approached the portal.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear them. Suddenly, something was flying toward her, small but fast, and she reflexively caught it, two handed. She turned it over in her hands, examining it. The object was a ball from an old Earth sport, baseball, with a large P on the logo.

“Nice catch, Captain.” Carl held his hands out, and she threw it back, underarm, for him to catch. “Could do with working on your throwing though,” he added, even though he caught it with ease.

“Carl.” Michael smiled. “I didn’t want to throw too hard and hurt you. You’re... getting on.”

“It’s good to see you again Michael. So soon! And yet somehow not as soon as I expected. Back to help another Captain?”

“You already know why I’m here.” Michael’s tone was puzzled.

“I can read the ripples in time. I know which way they’re flowing. The question is, do you?”

“All I want to do is give someone who deserves it a second chance.”

Carl laughed. “Your brother just wanted to record me. But that didn’t work out.”

“My _brother_ travelled through you?”

“Twice. But not yet. So I wouldn’t tell him if I were you.”

“I won’t...” Michael hadn’t known how this conversation would go, but this wasn’t what she had expected.

“Before your Federation banned all time travel, they had a Temporal Prime Directive. Don’t change the past. So, no spoilers. Clear?”

“I was aware of that, yes. Clear.”

“In that case, step on through. I’ll collect you when you’re ready. Come on,” he added, seeing Michael was about to make an objection. “You can trust me. I know when you’re supposed to be.”

Michael took a deep breath, and stepped into the vortex.

* * *

The cave-like underground of Talos IV was exactly how Michael remembered it – the same shafts of light piercing the gloom, the same long white lamps in the walls. She was alone, in the room and in time, and even though The Guardian – Carl – had reassured her, she wished there was an obvious window to return through. But no. She had to police her thoughts here.

Instead, she was thinking about the singing plants, and how she would have liked to have heard them again when—

“Michael? Is... is that you?”

Growing up on Vulcan, Michael was accustomed to people who aged slowly. People who, although she hadn’t seen them in a long time, didn’t appear any older. But there were always little changes – hair a little longer, skin a little more tanned or paler depending on season or activity, perhaps even an extra scar they had chosen to keep.

But Vina was exactly the same as Michael remembered. Time had changed Michael. Time had changed the Keeper, just a little, as Michael recognised one of the Talosians who had appeared behind Vina. But Vina herself was untouched.

“Vina.” Michael smiled at her in greeting, and nodded to the Talosians. “Yes, it is.” She held up her hand to halt the question she could read on Vina’s face.

“Keeper.” Michael swept her eyes across to include everyone. “Before we begin, I must ask that you don’t probe my mind too deeply, or, if you must, that you promise to treat anything you see there with the strictest secrecy. I am... bound... not to reveal the things I have seen since we last met, for the good of all.”

“Michael Burnham.” She was relieved that the Keeper spoke aloud. “We had not expected to see you again. Or to come to us without some vessel. However we will hear you out. We respect your wishes, but we will sense whether you are lying to us.”

“I... have travelled through time to ask for your help. Cap—Fleet Captain Christopher Pike has suffered a grave injury. His mind is unaffected but his body was damaged by delta radiation. He cannot talk, he cannot move. The best current medicine can do is give him a chair he can operate and let him flash a light for yes or no.” Michael looked at her audience; the Talosians were impassive but Vina’s expression was stricken.

She continued. “If he came here, you could allow him to live the semblance of a normal life in your projections. Or if he wants to he could come with me, and we could heal him.”

There was silence for a few moments, and Michael tried not to let herself feel anxious. Finally, the Keeper spoke. “Captain Pike would be welcome to remain with us. But bringing him here... We will require payment. If not from you, from him. This is a matter of survival for us.”

Michael nodded. “I would prefer to pay myself. I can pay with my memories from your time?”

“We will decide when he is here,” replied the Keeper, and Michael felt a touch of dissatisfaction at that, but she pushed it aside, nodding her assent.

“Where... where is Chris? Is he close?” Vina asked.

“He is two light years away, being cared for at Starbase Eleven. His old ship, my brother’s ship, the _Enterprise_ , is in a neighbouring sector. I could ask my brother to transport him, but travel here is punishable by death.”

“We will project you to the _Enterprise_ to talk to Spock. If he agrees to help, we will assist him in bringing Pike here.”

* * *

Spock’s quarters were dim, but still recognisable from the visit Michael had made, all those years ago. Spock himself was kneeling on the floor, meditating, real candles burning, and the sight and smell took her briefly but viscerally back to Vulcan, seeing her foster father doing the same thing when she was young.

“Spock,” she said, and she found tears were running down her cheeks even her face broke into a huge smile, her body suddenly weak as she knelt down, emotion threatening to get the better of her.

“Michael?” Spock looked up, shock breaking through his normal Vulcan stoicism. “Is that really you? How are you here?”

Michael laughed, tears still falling, as she brought up her left hand in a Vulcan salute, Spock mirroring it almost unthinkingly. Their fingers touched, as they had when they were children.

“Talosian projection,” she said, and quirked an eyebrow. “I can’t say more than that – Temporal Prime Directive.”

Spock tensed slightly, although he didn’t break contact. “We... have been misled by the Talosians before. Can you prove it’s really you?”

Michael nodded, understanding. “The last time we saw each other, when your shuttle was damaged and you couldn’t follow me? I told you when people reach for you, to let them. To reach out for that person who seems far from you. Have you been doing that, brother?”

“Sister. It... I... I have. And I will continue.” Spock’s eyes were briefly filled with emotion.

Michael couldn’t say anything for a moment, still overwhelmed with contact with the brother who had been dead to her for so long. She wiped her eyes, and felt the nudge of the Talosians in her mind. She shifted, standing, and Spock blew out the candle in front of him and did the same.

“I wish I could’ve come back just to talk to you, Spock. But one of our family needs us. Fleet Captain Pike. Did you hear what happened to him?”

“I did. The news grieved me, sister, and I will not deny that I had thought of returning him to Talos so he could live out his days with the illusion of a body. But I know his time there was painful. And he may not want to live a life of dreams.” He looked at Michael, appraising. “But I am surprised you would come back for this. For him. I know you respected him. Cared for him, even. But you have always known that life is unfair.”

Michael huffed a laugh at that. “It is. And I know I can’t go back and fix everything, nor do I desire to. But Captain Pike... he sacrificed with us that day, when the _Discovery_ flew into the future, more than any of us knew. Even though I can’t fix everything, I can try to fix this. You and I are uncomfortable with asking to be taken on faith, but I wouldn’t ask if there was another way.”

“You cannot elaborate because of the Temporal Prime Directive?” Michael nodded. “Very well. Do you have a plan?”

“Can you take the _Enterprise_ to Starbase 11, and bring him to Talos IV? I realise it’s a big ask.” Michael frowned. “I know that the penalty for entering the Talos Star Group is death, and I...”

“And you also know that even though you haven’t foreseen my death here today, nothing is certain, especially in matters of time?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I’ve missed you, brother. For so many things, but your clarity...” She looked him in the eye, searching. “I don’t want you to do this unless you’re absolutely sure.”

“I will do it Michael. I will take the risk. But I will need help.”

“The Talosians will monitor you, Spock. They will help you. They owe Captain Pike too.”

Michael exhaled. “Our window is closing, Spock. But before I go... I will always be with you. You can talk to me and I _will_ hear you, even if it takes a long time. I love you. Please keep reaching out.”

She stepped over the candle and pulled Spock into a hug, holding tight. He felt so real. After a beat his arms closed around her.

“I... love you too, Michael. Thank you for finding a way back to me.”

Michael stepped back, and Spock’s quarters were gone.

* * *

Michael sat with Vina in the Talosian chamber. Vina wasn’t there all the time; Michael didn’t know where she went when she wasn’t around. Possibly back to her illusions.

Days had gone by, Michael knew, but she hadn’t kept a close track of time. She had declined an illusion for herself, even to make the food and water seem more palatable. Back in this time... having seen her brother... Illusions didn’t seem logical. Vina had shown her the way to the surface, though, and she had spent some of her time walking round the barren, rocky exterior, and listening to the plants. She had also allowed one of the Talosians to project Spock’s court martial for her. It broke Michael’s heart to see Captain Pike in that state, and seeing what the Keeper projected to the _Enterprise_... it was horrifying, but it explained so much. Her heart warmed to see her brother’s relationship with his new Captain. Reading of it wasn’t the same as seeing it with her own eyes, even if not quite in person.

Now she waited with Vina for Pike to arrive. There wasn’t anything to say – Vina seemed to struggle to talk of her life before Talos, and Michael couldn’t easily relate to what she said about her illusions. Michael had exhausted what she could tell about what happened after her last visit pretty quickly. Neither of them wanted to discuss Pike. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

The Keeper and a few of others faded in, then, in the way the Talosians did – almost abruptly, but somehow seeming as if they’d always been there. Vina stood, a little anxious, and Michael got to her feet, too, thinking that for the first time, she could see a hit of fatigue around the Keeper’s eyes.

“It is done. Spock is saying goodbye to Captain Pike, and will beam him down momentarily.”

The gold of the transporter beam, the length transport took compared to the time she called home – and then there was Captain Pike, face ruined, body encased, but his _eyes_. Still so blue. Still so piercing. Still so alive.

“Welcome back, Captain Pike,” Michael heard in her head, and suddenly she was surrounded by an expanse of bright blue sky, the sun warm on her face almost like Vulcan – Ni’Var – no, still Vulcan in this time – a couple of trees, green with tiny yellow blossoms, some bushes and small flowers, and dry sandy brown ground underfoot with a pleasant, woody scent in the air that Michael couldn’t name.

Pike stood now, looking around, taking a few halting steps, breathing deeply. His chair had vanished, and he appeared much as he had the last time she’d seen him, although unlike Vina, time had passed for him. Hair slightly more silver. A few more wrinkles around his eyes.

“Vina, Keeper, I... I’m grateful that you would do this for me,” he stopped, as he truly took in what he was seeing. “Michael? Is that... are you real?”

Michael was ready. “I am real, Captain. You told me, before I left, that you didn’t know if it was better to know the role you’re meant to play. I think you’ve known your role up until now. But that may not be true anymore.”

“Michael. I’ve... thought about you, wondered what the future held for you... and you’re really here.” Pike shook his head. ”I should have known that this wasn’t all Spock. I felt that he was keeping things from me when he mind melded with me in the transporter room. But you’re supposed to be in the future. You’re supposed to have _stayed_ in the future. What’s happening here?”

“Christopher Pike.” The Keeper spoke, and Michael thought his voice sounded a little tight. “We have brought you here, and you may remain with us if you choose. But bringing you here was taxing and we require payment. We ask that you would share with Michael Burnham your memories of your time on Boreth.”

“But I was the one who asked you to bring him.” Michael was indignant, and she pitched her voice low and steely. “I said I would pay. Captain Pike has paid enough. And you already know that I’ve seen pain.”

Pike faced her, nodding, his voice quiet. “I don’t want you to pay, Burnham, but that experience... was for me. I shouldn’t share it even further.” He seemed troubled at the notion, and raised his chin slightly. “I have seen a lot, too. Choose something else.”

“Captain Pike, the time of Boreth being secret has passed.” A different Talosian spoke this time, her voice gentle but firm. “Michael Burnham, you agreed to let us choose. This is necessary.”

“Chris, you know you can’t refuse.” Vina stepped behind him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let them.”

Pike raised his hands in a gesture of acceptance. “All right.”

* * *

“When the future becomes the past, the present will be unlocked.” Michael stood with Pike on a bridge, lava flowing beneath, as Tenavik – Voq’s, _Ash’s_ son – spoke. What must it be like to have the path of your life chosen for you, with no freedom even to leave the planet you were left on? Michael wondered, and then wondered whether that had been her thought or Pike’s. She frowned.

They walked into the chamber. Warm, golden light surrounded them, the crystals glowing a slightly eerie green.

Michael looked up at the vaulted ceiling, marvelling slightly at how beautiful it was, while Tenavik issued his warning to Pike: “The present is a veil between anticipation and horror. Lift the veil, and madness may follow.”

Pike knelt, took hold of the crystal, and suddenly she was in the chaos, the baffle plate rupturing, alarms everywhere, the smell of burning, cadets panicking, Pike unable to escape.

Then, silence as Pike confronted himself as he was now, until that scream.

And even worse, the pain and defeat written on his face, as he tried to come to terms with what he had seen, back in the chamber.

But she could feel his resolve, as it kindled. “You believe in service, sacrifice, compassion, and love. No.” Pike stood in his memory, and Michael almost felt overcome as he continued, “I’m not going to abandon who I am because the future contains an ending I didn’t see for myself. No. Give it to me.”

“I honour you, Captain.” Tenavik’s tone was respectful. But as Pike took the crystal, Michael found anger flaring in her. Anger that one of the most honourable things Pike had done he had been made to keep secret. Anger that he had borne it alone. And anger at herself, for her part, no matter how unwitting, in inflicting it. But her anger dissolved into sympathy and sadness. Tenavik only knew one way. It was a long (very long) time ago. And of all burdens Pike carried, one was self inflicted.

* * *

Michael found herself back under the blue sky, as if it were real, as if they’d never been elsewhere. “Captain. I’m sorry you had to carry that alone,” she said, softly.

“I’d do it again.” Pike’s mouth quirked, a ghost of his smile there, and Michael felt something inside her melt a little.

Vina walked round to stand by Michael. “Chris, if you would like to rest, you can.”

“I’m fine.” Pike’s smile was stronger for a moment, before his expression went a little rueful. “We’re building up to the heavy stuff now, aren’t we? Forgive me but... I’d just like to get it done.”

The Keeper stepped forward, and Michael could tell he looked refreshed. “A choice is before you, Captain Pike, although not one you should rush to make. Whether to stay with us, to live the rest of your days as you are now, where we can provide you the illusion of health, in any situation you or we can imagine, or to go with Michael Burnham.”

“You know I come from the future. You can come back with me, and we can heal you.” Michael caught his eye and smiled, warm, before her smile faded and she continued. “It will be a painful process: physically repairing your body, your nervous system, and mentally a challenge because you will be leaving so much and... the future is... different. There is a lot to learn. And you can never go back. But you would be free.”

Pike exhaled. “This... I was... I am supposed to be in that chair. That is my destiny. My ending. They didn’t take my commission, but I was going to go back to Earth, be cared for near my family home...” he trailed off, turning, looking around at the landscape, staring at hills in the distance. “I’ve carried that knowledge for years, as you’ve seen. Made peace with it. I’m not meant for the future. And even if I were...” there was a note of helplessness to his voice, as his eyes rested on Vina again.

“Captain, with all due respect I think you’re wrong about something.” Michael saw his expression grow a little sceptical, but she carried on. “You were not shown your end. The end of part of your life, yes. But you didn’t die. The crystal didn’t show you what was beyond the chair. I know you couldn’t have imagined me coming back to offer you a chance, but please don’t reject it because you made an assumption about what you saw.”

Michael saw that land – his eyes widened slightly, his expression changed, but he shuttered it. That impassive Captain’s mask still there.

“Chris, there’s a memory I need to share. With you, and with Michael.” Vina’s face looked sad, almost regretful for a moment, and then they were back on _Discovery_.

* * *

Michael immediately clocked the tension on the bridge, the ship at yellow alert. Pike stood between the helm and ops, Detmer and Owosekun in their usual places, staring down a silent Leland on the viewscreen. Michael herself wasn’t in this memory; she stood in front of the science station, watching. Trying to narrow down when it could be.

“What do I do, Sir? Captain?” Owo’s voice was anxious when Pike didn’t reply immediately.

Then Vina was there, behind Pike, her hand on his shoulder, closer and more intimate, somehow, than when she had encouraged Pike to share his memory earlier.

“Let your friends go. It’s the only way. Let them go. Let us all go.” Michael could feel what Vina felt as she said that. She needed to let go of the idea of the real Pike coming back to her, because that wasn’t who he was. He needed to let go of his feelings, his regret surrounding her. They both needed to move on.

Pike in Vina’s memory seemed to accept this. Michael couldn’t see his face, but she could see his jaw tense slightly. “Goodbye, Vina.”

Michael heard Pike telling Owo to disengage the transporter, as the memory faded away.

* * *

The sunshine was jarring again. Michael studied Pike, trying to get a read on him, but he could rival a Vulcan for control at times. His face was a mask.

Vina wasn’t so guarded. She reached out and took both of Pike’s hands in hers, her face smiling but sad, too.

“Vina,” Pike started, but she interrupted.

“I told you to let us go Chris. To let me go. I love you, but I love the you who is still part of me, after all these years. I’m not the person you need, and I never could have been. I’ve known that for a long time. And you know it too. You could never be truly happy with dreams.” She dropped his hands and stepped away.

Pike tilted his head and half-smiled at Vina, in sympathy? In some kind of regret? Michael couldn’t say for sure. “Vina, thank you. I... If you’re happy, that’s enough.”

“Vina, you could come with me, if you wanted to.” The words slipped out before Michael had really thought about them, but she suddenly _felt_ for Vina, who had spent her life making do with make believe. “We wouldn’t be able to give you your youth back, but we could heal you.”

Vina smiled, her expression placid now. “You’re very kind. But my place is here. This is my choice. It always will be.”

Pike turned toward the Talosians. “I used to think that after Starfleet, I might retire to Earth and breed horses. Hell, you know that before I... met... you, I was thinking about possibilities other than Starfleet. And I am truly grateful that you would have given me a facsimile of that life here. But I joined up in the first place to explore, and I’m not quite ready to stop. Not yet. You’ve all been at pains to show me I still have that choice. So...” He turned, and Michael felt a rush of relief and happiness. “Burnham... how do we do this?”

* * *

Zora always preferred the black and white, silent movies. But once she had shown the crew the Wizard of Oz. Now Michael wondered if she ought to click her heels together three times, but instead she took hold of Pike’s chair and _pushed_ , and three steps in the portal opened and they were in the snow of Dannus IV.

“May I be the first to welcome you to the future,” Carl said to Pike, as he handed the baseball to Michael. “It’s for you - she’ll give it to you when you’re healed. Now hurry up,” he addressed Michael, taking a pull on his cigar. “Can’t keep him out here in the cold.”

“Thank you,” Michael said, genuine, before finding her comm badge in her pocket and beaming Pike and herself directly to sickbay.

* * *

“Do you understand what we’re going to do?” Doctor Culber’s tone was calm and kind.

Flash.

“Do you consent?”

Flash.

“May I come and check on you in a few hours?” Michael asked, a little tentative.

Flash.

Michael waited, but a second flash, for no, didn’t come.

“I’ll see you later,” she smiled at Pike, and nodded to Culber and Pollard as they started prepping the treatment.

* * *

“Saru is on Kaminar at the moment. He’s assisting with a historical project. Not everyone... knows... about us, but Saru is the last Kelpien to have gone through Vahar’ai, and he didn’t want to hide that.” Pike’s treatment was going well – his flesh had been regenerated and was no longer scarred, his heart had been repaired, but his nerves were still a work in progress. So Michael sat in a chair next to his bio bed, holding his hand, and kept up a monologue of things she thought would interest him. Things he needed to know about his new reality. She had started out with the Burn – even though it was upsetting and he would have questions, it coloured everything else.

“Helping out with historical research is an... occupational hazard. A Vulcan historian wanted to mind meld with me, so she could record my memories. She’s a member of Sarek’s clan, so considered me family, in a way.” Michael shook her head, slightly, at the memory. At the historian’s insistence that sharing her memories was logical. And trying to use her clan membership to get what she wanted.

“And Vulcan itself has a new name now. It’s called Ni’Var. Spock actually started the process of reunification between the Vulcans and the Romulans. Yes, the Romulans,” Michael said in response to the faint pressure on her hand. “He visited Romulus in secret for years. Then the Romulan sun went supernova, but Spock sacrificed himself to try to save Romulus. He was over one hundred and fifty at the time,” Michael added, sensing Pike’s distress at the thought. “Romulus couldn’t be saved, but the Romulans eventually found a home on Vulcan. And so the planet was renamed.”

“Captain, the, er, Captain needs his beauty sleep.” Doctor Pollard passed by, entering data into a holographic display in front of her. “As do you,” she added, looking pointedly at Michael.

“Yes Doctor,” Michael stood.

Pollard rolled her eyes. “That’s the ’I’m going to review preliminary sensor data until late at night’ ’Yes Doctor’, isn’t it? I know them all.”

“It’s actually, ’I have a pile of crew fitness reports to sign off on and _then_ review the sensor data’.” Michael grinned at Pike, pleased to see the very corner of his mouth turn up slightly. “Good night.”

* * *

“This is going to take some getting used to.” Pike poked at the table in his quarters, which moments earlier had merely been empty space, testing its strength. His treatment had been completely successful, but Doctor Culber had recommended that he take it slowly for the rest of the day before interacting with the rest of the crew.

“Your lightning table got broken in the battle with Control. Or when the ship went through the wormhole... I’m not sure exactly. Most of your pots didn’t make it either. But one did, and that horse sculpture. I, uh, we kept... I got them out of storage for you.” Michael gestured to an alcove to the left of the window. “There’s a throw and a couple of other things you didn’t take in the bedroom.”

“What made you keep my stuff?” Pike’s gaze was curious. A little amused.

“I... well. For the connection?” Michael’s brow furrowed slightly, as she tried to explain it to herself as much as to him. “I know when you knew me I had barely anything. But I found value in possessions, eventually. And it seemed a shame to recycle nice things. We had plenty of space.”

Pike walked over to the shelf, and carefully lifted the small pot, running gentle fingers over it before putting it back down.

“It’s still strange, being able to hold things again. Being able to talk...” he touched the statue, and Michael tried to imagine what it must be like for him. “A Remington. Something in the face reminded me a little of my horse Mary Lou; that’s why I got it. Not that she often reared up like that.” Pike huffed a laugh and Michael smiled too. His voice changed, going deeper and quieter. “She’s so long ago and far away, now.” He turned from her, staring out at the stars.

Something in Pike’s expression was familiar to Michael, and she felt the ache of it, everything they had known, people they’d loved, places they’d been, all being gone. She walked over, standing to his side, and put her hand on his arm, wanting him to feel connected. To feel less alone. They stood there for a few minutes, quiet.

“So, we’re here for a Type Ia Supernova?” Pike spoke, finally. “I can never believe how giant the red giant is, compared to the white dwarf. It’s like a cantaloupe and a grape. If you could spin a melon out like cotton candy,” he said, looking at the accretion disk round the white dwarf. “When do you think it’s going to blow?”

“Tomorrow afternoon sometime. Linus says 1600, give or take ten minutes, but he’s trying to narrow it down further. Join me on the bridge for it? Even now only about ten Starfleet crews have ever observed one. Though going through the logs I did find a ship that had recorded multiple supernovae.” Michael took a breath, retuning to her point. “We’ll be studying it directly for a few days, then it’s back to HQ for a baryon sweep and a couple of week’s R and R.” Michael squeezed his arm slightly, before letting him go. “But hang on. You failed astrophysics.”

“Please Captain. This is basic stuff. Chandrasekhar limit. Electron Degeneracy. Standard candles.”

“Still...” Michael was unconvinced.

“Fine, it’s a long story. Kind of a downer. I’ll tell you one day. But I probably would have gotten an F for real at the Vulcan Science Academy.” Pike turned and smiled, and Michael realised how close they were.

“Yes, you probably would have,” agreed Michael, stepping back with her hands up at his mock hurt expression. “I’ve been learning absolute candour from my mom. She joined a Romulan sect, believe it or not.”

“Believe it. How can I disbelieve anything anymore?” Pike shook his head. “I’m like the White Queen.”

Michael laughed at the allusion. “I didn’t know you knew Alice. But I’d better go, if you want to get your six impossible things in before breakfast tomorrow.” Michael took a step toward the door. “If you need anything, call me. There’s a replicator over here,” she gestured, “but if you feel up to the mess hall in the morning, ask someone about the nacelles.”

* * *

Michael liked to eat at least one meal in the mess hall per day – she always wanted her crew to feel like she was one of them, that she could be approached. But she also hoped, as she got ready for the day, that she might find Pike. She walked in to the sound of a familiar voice.

“They’re detached. As in. They’re not physically attached. To the rest of the ship. Talk about impossible things.” Pike shook his head as he took a bite of bacon, and Tilly, sitting opposite, grinned.

“I’ll take you to see them after breakfast. You can look right out through the gap.”

He had clearly mastered the replicator, and was wearing a dark blue sweater that made his eyes seem even bluer than usual. It warmed something in Michael to know that he’d taken her advice, as she ordered her burrito at the other end of the room.

“Captain! Get over here. Pike’s on to four impossible things already.” Tilly waved her arm, beckoning.

“You can ride a horse on the ship.” Owo, next to Tilly, took a turn, as Michael sat at the end of the table.

“That... would seem to be inadvisable. Unless it was a pony. A small one. Go on, explain.” Pike waved his fork at Owo, before spearing a piece of egg.

“We have a holodeck. It’s a simulation, but it uses transporter and replicator technology combined with holograms so it feels real. Even smells real. You can go anywhere, do anything...”

“It’s all fun and games until the safety protocols go offline. Am I right, Detmer?” Reno added, from further down the table.

“Bryce convinced us to go riding. It was supposed to be a beginner program, but there was an energy fluctuation in the holomatrix and _someone_ ,” Detmer looked pointedly at Owo, “spooked my horse.”

“Better the ace pilot’s horse spooks than any of the rest of ours. At least you’re used to speed.” Owo shrugged, unrepentant.

“Sounds terrifying. Note to self: stay away from the holodeck,” Pike deadpanned.

“Now we’ve isolated the holodeck power so it can no longer be affected by the spore drive it’s fine. Just have to avoid holo-addiction.” Reno stood, taking her tray.

“Good to know.” Pike looked round. “Who’s next?”

* * *

Alpha Lupi had been a different type of star, a blue giant rather than a red giant and white dwarf binary system. But Michael still caught herself thinking back to that day on Doctari Alpha as she reviewed the final preparations for their supernova observation from the Captain’s chair. Her dad who she had lost for good. Her mom who, impossibly, she’d found again. She shook herself, mentally, and tried to stay in the moment.

“Owo, how are the shields doing?”

“The enhancements are online and are operating at peak efficiency, Captain.”

“Great. Nilsson, spore drive?”

“Stamets reports ready to jump if needed, Captain.”

The doors from the turbo lift opened then, and Michael stood to welcome Pike.

“Captain.” He nodded, smiling, and she gestured in the direction of Tilly’s station.

“Join me. I was just about to ask Tilly to confirm details from the science teams.”

Tilly smiled widely. “Captain. Captain.” She included both of them in her glance. “It’s good to have you back here, sir.” She brought up a holographic display of the star system, with blue dots glowing in various places. “The primary probes are at Lagrange 2, 3 and 5, and we’ll leave one here at L4 when we move to a safe distance. We’ve collected a sample of plasma from L1, from the red giant and from areas of the accretion disk. Secondary probes are here, and here.” She pointed to lights further out, above and below the stars. “Science teams all report ready, and the sensor diagnostic shows that the sensors are all nominal.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Michael smiled at her friend.

Michael went back to her chair. “Linus, time check?”

“I project carbon fusion will begin in... four minutes, Captain.”

“All right. Detmer, take us to a safe distance.”

“Aye Captain,” Detmer worked her controls, and Michael felt the impulse engines engage. As their distance increased, Michael began to be able to see the stars move in orbit relative to each other, even as Owo kept the viewscreen zoomed in on the binary.

“Safe distance confirmed, Captain. Ready to keep us ahead of the shockwave.”

Michael checked her display, seeing the raw feed of readings coming in from all their probes, as well as sensors on board the ship, and the ship-board experiments including the ones on spores. Everything was ready, and as she looked around the bridge, seeing all her friends, her colleagues, and Pike there, she felt a moment of peace. She stood again, taking a couple of steps forward.

“Captain to all hands. This star system is too distant from the Federation, from any inhabited worlds to have a name. And yet, you all know how special this moment is for the galaxy. A supernova is a death, but without them we wouldn’t have the elements for life. Please find a filtered viewport, and enjoy a spectacle that only a few Starfleet crews have ever witnessed. Burnham out.”

Pike stepped closer to her then, and they stood together in the middle of the bridge as the star exploded.

* * *

Pike was sitting in his quarters, table replaced by a sofa, with a holographic display in front of him, as Michael walked in.

“Captain.” He stood, smiling, collapsing the display.

“At ease, Captain,” she said, moving to sit at the other end of the sofa.

“I think by now you can call me Chris,” he smiled, sitting back down.

“Then it’s Michael. No need for formalities.”

“I... I think I like them.” Chris quirked his lopsided smile at her. “I knew, when we served together, that you were going to make an excellent Captain, and after you’d gone I hoped for you, that whenever you ended up that you would have that opportunity. Seeing you in action on the bridge today, seeing your crew... the title suits you. The role suits you.” He leaned back, studying her.

“Thank you. It’s been a journey. And... it might be...changing soon.” Michael shrugged. “Nothing’s confirmed, of course, and it seems a little soon, but they may promote me.”

“It wouldn’t be soon. Not for you.” Chris held her eye, serious. Michael knew she didn’t need validation from him, but his belief, of all people’s, felt special.

“I... thank you.” She smiled, perhaps a little faintly, then remembered why she’d stopped by in the first place. “I came to bring you this,” she handed him the baseball that Carl had given her.

“From that man? What was that, anyway? I haven’t had a chance to ask.” Chris examined the ball, turning it over in his hands, studying the logo.

“He calls himself Carl, in his human form. But actually he’s known as the Guardian of Forever. Some kind of ancient time portal. Apparently my brother will – well, did – travel through time using it, more than once. Zora found him for us first, when Philippa got sick. Her body couldn’t take the stress of being displaced in both time and dimension, but she was able to pass through the portal to somewhere new.” She tilted her head, thinking of her friend. “I still miss her.”

Chris reached over and rested his hand on hers, briefly. “Zora’s been helping me catch up, with nine hundred years of history, and what’s been happening since you got here. I’ve been...” He paused, and uncertainty flickered across his face for a moment. “I’ve barely scratched the surface, but I was sorry to learn that Philippa was gone.”

He tossed the ball up in the air and caught it a couple of times.

“So, baseball?”

“I have no idea. I am not an expert in Earth sports. But he said it was for you...”

“I played it a few times growing up, but... no special meaning there. Strange.”

* * *

“Someone needs to stay to look after the ship, Tilly. As you know.” Michael smiled indulgently over her omelette. They were discussing leave plans over breakfast. Well. Tilly was. Everyone else was mainly nodding along.

“I know. But it’s on _Risa_. I just wish you could come for a couple of days while they do the baryon sweep.” Tilly sighed, then took a drink of her espresso. “You’re coming, right, Pike?”

“Subspace Energy Dynamics is not really my thing, Commander.“ Pike smiled, warm. “Although I’m sure your talk will be fascinating.”

“But... Risa. Stamets will be presenting too, Culber is coming, so’s Pollard, Adira – you haven’t met them, they’re awesome – will be meeting us there, and lots of other crew... it’s not like you’ll be alone, even if you don’t attend any of the talks.”

“I’ve only been in this millennium for a few days, Tilly. I’m not going on vacation yet.” Michael wasn’t sure it would be apparent to anyone else, but years as a captain helped her to see through the mask at times. There was some uncertainty, some vulnerability in Pike’s answer that troubled her.

“I’m definitely not going Tilly. But you can practice your talk on me if you like.” Michael raised her brow. “And I’ll even promise not to have ’more of a comment than a question’ at the end.”

“Oh my gosh Michael do you remember at that talk on the Crepusculans’ early development you gave two years ago?” Tilly drained her coffee before launching into her anecdote. “Honestly Pike there was this know-it-all in the audience, and I really thought Michael might punch him. Or the moderator. Or I might have...”

* * *

“Everything changes.” Pike’s look of awe faded slightly, as he turned from where he had been staring out of the ready room window at the ships on display. “And yet some things don’t change, do they? Nine hundred years of technological advancement, and everyone still has to leave the ship for a baryon sweep every five years. Practically the first thing I did as Captain of the _Enterprise_. It was all I could do not to check each room personally to make sure they were all clear.”

“Lucky for me my first one was a few years in,” Michael grinned. “Shall we go?”

* * *

HQ was busy; HQ was always busy. Michael let the bustle wash over her as she focused on Pike’s reaction to it.

He took a few steps forward then stopped, looking round, awe in his eyes once more. “Nothing like San Francisco, huh,” he said, as he looked down to the lower level.

Michael followed his gaze. She didn’t know the full details, but she had heard something about an accident on a Caitian mining colony, the worst affected having been brought to HQ for specialist treatment. She could see a couple of them below her, fur dull and patchy.

There was a young humanoid girl sitting on another biobed, knees drawn up to her chest, staring into space and rocking slightly. She looked Andorian, but something didn’t quite fit. As Michael watched, two medical staff came by: a nurse in grey and Doctor Eli.

The nurse was speaking. “I don’t understand. She seems like a healthy Andorian, apart from her pallor, but I’m not seeing any response to visual stimuli at all, even on brain scans. There’s nothing wrong - no nerve damage, no gene damage, she just doesn’t see. And she doesn’t respond when we try to talk to her, either.”

Michael felt Pike shift beside her, something in his demeanour sharpening, but as she took a breath to ask him what was up—

“Captain Burnham. I trust the _Discovery’s_ baryon sweep is proceeding smoothly.” Admiral Vance came up behind them, and they turned. “And this is Captain Pike?”

“Yes. Admiral Vance, meet former Fleet Captain Christopher Pike,” Michael said in introduction, and the two men shook hands.

“Admiral. Please excuse me asking to skip the pleasantries, but I couldn’t help overhear a couple of medics in conversation just now and I may be able to offer them some assistance.” Pike seemed straighter, purposeful. Something Michael hadn’t seen in him since he came to the present. Something she hadn’t seen in him since that vision of the cadet ship.

Vance – to his credit, Michael thought – managed to shutter the doubt in his eyes almost immediately, and they beamed down to the lower level.

“Doctor Eli, a moment please?” Vance’s voice was pitched low but commanding. Dr Eli came over to where they stood slightly in the corridor, the nurse following in his wake.

“Doctor, are there any Betazoids here? Any telepaths?” Pike included both of them in his question. “The reason this girl can’t see is that she’s Aenar. They’re an Andorian subspecies, who evolved to live deep underground, in a harsh environment. They can’t see, but they are telepathic. They don’t read minds without permission; at least, that used to be their law. But they do use their senses to... see, in a way. Navigate the world around them. If she’s experienced a trauma, she could be... sensing too much.”

“She was found stowed away on the _USS Song_ in their cargo bay, but they don’t yet know where they picked her up or how long she’d been there. They’re reviewing their logs.” Doctor Eli tilted his head. “But I have no record of the Aenar. How can you tell that’s what she is?” The nurse stepped to one side, talking to someone on her commbadge.

“Her lack of skin pigmentation. It’s characteristic. And her antennae are a little different, too - the notch at the top.” Pike was utterly confident.

As Pike finished talking, another medic approached the girl. “Nurse Loran is Betazoid. Hopefully he’ll be able to help her,” Doctor Eli said, nodding at them before going over to check on his colleagues.

* * *

Michael gave Pike a brief tour, stopping by Operations to check the status of the sweep, before joining Vance in a conference room for lunch.

“Thank you for your help with the Aenar girl. Sickbay reports that Loran has been able to communicate with her. He’s working on gaining her trust.” Vance sipped his water with a thoughtful air. “I had heard the name Aenar before, but I thought they were extinct. I would never have known how to recognise one, still less any of their customs. I don’t think anyone here would.”

“This is my first time seeing an Aenar in person. They’re insular. I’m guessing you’ve never met one, Captain?” Michael shook her head. “I learned about them from Admiral Archer. One of my first solo assignments on the Antares was to pilot him and his beagle to a conference.” Pike smiled faintly as he looked into the distance, remembering. “He had a lot of stories, told me a lot about the founding of the Federation.”

Vance looked at Pike, appraising. “I don’t know if you have any plans for how you’re going to live your life in this time, but perhaps the Federation could use a... consultant... with your skills and experience. Think about it.”

* * *

Michael had long ago resigned herself to the fact that as a Captain, the paperwork would never end. However, she did her best to keep up with it, falling back, at times, on her Vulcan training to get it all handled in as logical and efficient manner as possible. She was pleasantly surprised, after she reviewed the work that Reno had done on the warp core, made all of her resupply requisitions, and sent off the last batch of fitness evaluations, to find that there was nothing else to do for this reporting cycle.

This pleasant feeling lasted throughout most the rest of the morning, as she treated herself to a reread of her much loved copy of Alice in Wonderland, but had dissipated by lunchtime as she had read the parts with the White Queen and found she had time to think.

Spending time with Pike... that spark... that affection she’d felt was still there. But the _Discovery_ crew were his only people here. When she had come to this time, she had had Book, and even though she let them go, she could still hold on to hope for finding the rest of her crew. The rest of crew had had each other, and her, eventually. But Pike... while he was around people who understood, he was going through the adjustment to this new time, this new life, alone.

She was the Captain. She had a duty of care, to her crew, and to people she’d travelled back in time to save. She had been in a relationship since she had been here, and she had been alone, and she had been fine. She should just focus on helping him adjust to his new life.

Somehow though, as she toyed with her salad, alone in the mess hall, she felt restless.

“Michael? I was looking for you. I thought you’d be in the ready room.” Pike smiled at her, relaxed. He wore a light, mid blue jacket over a tight grey shirt and Michael... no. She’d settled that.

“What can I do for you Chris?” She returned his smile, putting her fork down.

“Well... I think saw a rainforest out of the window, and I was wondering if we could take a walk?”

* * *

The atmosphere on the _Maathai_ was warm, damp, and fragrant. They beamed down to the beach and followed a path into the forest, and walked, relaxed, chatting.

“This feels so real,” Pike said, slipping his jacket off to tie it around his waist. They had been walking for an hour, and the jungle was thick around the narrow path.

“It is real,” Michael replied, puzzled, thinking of the holodecks on _Discovery_. She unzipped her jacket, copying him. Her uniform was supposed to be suitable for all environments, but it didn’t suit this heat and humidity.

Pike quirked his half smile. “I mean, it’s gotta blow your mind, still, that something like this is possible? An actual, living ecosystem on a _ship_? Even after all these years it must take your breath away at times.”

“It really does. You try to suppress it so you can get through your day, but... The wonder is always there.”

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, broken by the sound of their footfalls, insects nearby and birds in the distance. They’d caught a few glimpses of colourful feathers through the trees, but nothing clear. The sound of a stream nearby made Michael realise she was thirsty. She stopped and unclipped her water bottle from where it hung at her waist, taking a drink, but as she turned to start walking again she felt a hand against her bare arm. She stilled, looking round slowly.

Fluttering above the path before them was a giant butterfly.

“A blue morpho,” Pike breathed, as it turned toward them, alighting on her shoulder, spreading its shimmering wings wide just for a moment, before flying off into the trees.

“Magical,” she said softly, looking after it. “The wonder is always there.” she turned back, looking up at Pike, sure her expression was a mirror of his – eyes a little wide, lips a little parted. After a moment he looked down to his hand on her arm and smiled a little, letting her go, and they started along the path once again.

“Is this the only ship like this?” He asked, as they crossed over a small stream, following the path back round in the direction of the beach again.

“No, there are a few. I saw the _USS Crenshaw_ at Deep Space 12. That ship had a desert environment, though, like the Mojave, I think. You should visit, see if they got it right.”

“Maybe I will.”

* * *

This continued for the next few days - Michael doing normal work tasks: reviewing papers, watching a holo of Tilly’s talk, checking in with the crew members who were still on duty, running simulations on the Bridge for those who wanted a bit more experience, personally running diagnostics on key systems.

But also there was Pike finding her to do things with him. They sparred, they played chess (when it was closer than she expected he pointed out he’d had years more practice against Spock than he had the last time they’d played), they even went riding on the holodeck (which Michael got close to regretting the following day when she was stiff).

Michael enjoyed spending time with him – it quickly became her favourite part of the day. It was always light and relaxed, but at times there was a slight intensity there... she wondered if he felt it too. Part of Michael worried that he was just lonely with most of the crew gone. But then she reminded herself that he had chosen to stay rather than go to Risa. So she tried not to overthink things, and just let herself enjoy their time.

* * *

“I am so relaxed. It’s a good thing that we’re still running on a skeleton crew because I think I may be too relaxed to give orders.” Tilly stretched, and slumped back in her chair in the ready room, where she and Michael were catching up for a briefing and chat.

“So after your talk did you just sunbathe, or did you do anything else?” Michael couldn’t help notice that her pale friend had actually caught a tan.

“I did go snorkelling one morning, and it was lovely and the ocean life was really beautiful, but sunbathing is so relaxing.” She sighed, happy. “So how about you? Did you get up to anything interesting while I was away?”

“I watched a holo of your talk. And it might be worth checking with Reno to make sure the warp plasma injectors are all operating within tolerance – I ran a diagnostic on the engine upgrades, and I thought they might be running a touch hot.” Michael sipped her tea, trying to think if there was anything else that Tilly should keep an eye on.

“Plasma injectors do not count as interesting.” Tilly narrowed her eyes. “How’s Pike?”

“He’s good. I took him to meet Admiral Vance. They seemed to hit it off – especially when Pike was able to identify the species of a lone alien girl in sickbay. Vance was impressed, I think, not just at his knowledge but that he immediately used it to help people.”

“Well, that’s Pike for you. And?” Tilly motioned her to go on.

“And we... spent time together. We went for a walk on the _Maathai_.” Michael smiled, thinking of the butterfly.

Tilly raised an eyebrow, appraising. “And how about your plans for next week?”

“I’ve booked a runabout. I was thinking I might visit my mom, and Saru.”

“Really,” Tilly said, statement not question. She eyed Michael, meaningfully. “Runabouts are quite spacious, you know. You are a Captain and we don’t have a yacht, but a whole runabout for one person seems like a waste.”

* * *

Michael hesitated outside Pike’s quarters. This could be a terrible idea. But she pressed the chime anyway, stepping through the door as it opened.

“Michael.” Pike smiled, warm. “Come in. Take a load off. Would you like a drink? Tilly brought me a bottle of Risan rum from her trip. She said she’s going to help me get my bar cart stocked again.”

“I... yeah. Yes please. I’d like to try it.” Michael sat, noting a coffee table had been added since the last time she’d been there.

Pike retrieved two glasses from the replicator and sat on the sofa, pouring their drinks.

“Might be better in a Mai Tai, but...” he handed her a glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Michael replied, clinking their glasses. They both took a sip, Michael enjoying the sweetness, the bite of the alcohol.

“Not bad,” Pike commented, taking another sip. “Tilly’s got good taste.”

Michael smiled. “She does.” She took a breath – nerves returning, but she carried on. “So I... I’ve got a runabout for my leave and I wondered if you’d like to take a trip with me? They’re new since our time. Large, not like those cramped shuttles we used to use.” Michael stared down at her drink, realising she was at risk of babbling. She looked back up. “I could teach you to fly it?”

“Well, I have been itching to get back into a pilot’s seat.” Pike smiled, wide, and Michael was distracted by his dimples. “Where are we headed?”

Michael shifted slightly. “I haven’t decided on a full itinerary yet.” Pike’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t interrupt her. “I do have one destination planned... but it’s a surprise.”

“Oh really?” Pike sipped his drink again, a pleased curiosity radiating off him. “Any hints?”

“Somewhere you’ve been before, I think. But that’s all I’m saying.”

* * *

Apart from a console, replicator, screen and two chairs at the front, the _USS Loire_ was a blank slate. Shiny, white and empty.

“It’s like an unfurnished apartment,” Pike put his bag down by the door and looked around. Michael set hers down next to his, trying to see it as he did.

“The idea is to customise it for the mission. Or just to your preference. Computer, Burnham Living area one,” she said, and the programmable matter responded, creating a dining table and chairs, two sofas and a low table between them with a potted white Vulcan orchid. “Last time I used this layout there were more of us,” she said, feeling unaccountably vulnerable.

“Nice.” Pike nodded. “This is better.” He looked at the console. “So, how does this work?”

“It’s really the same as it was.” She sat and Pike followed suit. “Impulse, warp, communications – just a new interface that adapts to you. And the ship itself is more responsive than the old Class Cs.”

Pike touched the console gingerly to begin with, watching the interface rise to meet him, but getting more comfortable as Michael talked him through the pre-flight checklist.

“You ready to take her out?” Michael asked.

“Aye, Captain,” he caught her eye and grinned.

“ _Loire_ to HQ. Clearance to depart, please?”

“Acknowledged, _Loire_ , you’re clear to leave. Have a good trip. HQ out.”

Pike moved them forward, gently at first, his confidence and satisfaction clearly building as they got underway. Soon they were outside the energy barrier.

“So, where are we headed, Michael? What coordinates should I set?”

“Still a surprise, Chris,” Michael replied, a little archly, as she took control and programmed a course.

“Fine. Can you at least tell me how long it’ll take to get there?”

“More than a day. But I hope it’ll be worth it.” Michael pressed a control and the _Loire_ jumped to warp, stars streaking by the windows.

She stood, walking over to sit on one of the sofas, and Pike joined her, sitting opposite on the other side of the table.

“So tell me about Admiral Archer. I can’t believe you took a dog in a shuttle.”

“Neither can I. It was a nightmare. I did my best to clean up, but anyone who took that shuttle out was finding dog hairs for weeks afterward. And you can’t exactly take a dog for a walk in space. But the Admiral was good for stories. His ship was the _Enterprise_ , too.”

* * *

Michael dropped them out of warp a little further from the planet than she would have in her old life. The Federation had been helping aligned and some non–aligned worlds with cleaning up the results of the Burn: handling what were floating graveyards with sensitivity, creating memorials, and salvaging what could be reclaimed and clearing what could not. But there was still debris around a lot of planets, and Michael was cautious, especially in a smaller vessel. Pike came out of the back – now arranged into two bedrooms with en-suites, a narrow corridor running down one side – and headed to the replicator, ordering a coffee.

“Sleep well?” Michael asked, smiling up at Pike. She had taken a while to fall asleep, and woken early, but she still felt relaxed and refreshed. Only a little anxious.

“Yes, thank you,” Pike replied, distracted, staring at the view screen as the planet came into view. Green, with hints of brown on the ground, and various layers of white clouds in the atmosphere. His brow furrowed. “I know this planet. But it’s... it’s been _years_. Even for me.” He sat beside Michael, eyes distant.

“Cestus III,” she said, sending a message to get permission to park the _Loire_ in orbit.

“Cestus III,” he echoed, and exhaled. “You know, technically I discovered this planet. I identified it as a colonisation candidate from a survey we did on _Enterprise_ , back when I was XO, and I led the first away mission here. I visited again as Captain, with supplies for the research station...” he trailed off, thinking of Leland, and alligators.

“It became a Federation member world eventually. It’s on some important shipping lanes, so we’ll probably have to wait to hear from orbital control.”

“But why here? Of all places.” He quirked his lips. “Those five year missions... We discovered plenty of planets.”

“I will say it wasn’t my idea originally. Admiral Vance suggested it, off the cuff, almost as a joke.” Michael smiled a little at his confusion. “But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. All will become clear when we beam down, I promise.”

Pike met her eyes. “I trust you,” he said, quietly, holding her gaze, the moment stretching. Michael was struck by the intensity there in the blue.

She breathed out, and tilted her head slightly, breaking the connection before it became too much. “Let me reset for breakfast.”

* * *

They beamed down to the edge of a large square, surrounded by tall buildings on three sides, and a lower, sand coloured wall on the fourth, interrupted by a large gateway with large round grey orbs set on small towers on either side. Behind the gateway was an area of parkland, skyscrapers visible beyond. There were people everywhere – mostly humans, but a lot of Gorn, the occasional Tellarite and various other species – walking, sitting in pavement cafes, shopping at a market that took up part of the square.

Michael felt Pike take a breath next to her. “I remember those spheres, from the last time I came here. This must have been the entrance to the research station. Even after so long some things are still the same.”

“Shall we head over?” Michael asked and he nodded. Michael led the way across the square to the gateway, Pike following her, quiet, taking everything in.

She stopped on the left side, where there was a bronze plaque.

“Pike City Memorial Park.” Pike turned to Michael. “Pike City?”

“Yes, Pike City. They named it after you.”

“But I—” he stopped. “I don’t—” He turned to look at the plaque again, which went on to detail the destruction of the research station, and the establishment of the colony a few years later.

“Well.” He exhaled. “That was... not what I was expecting.”

Michael smiled, gently. “You did discover the planet.” She half shrugged. “For the Federation, anyway. But... that’s not the only reason they named the city for you.” She pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the plaque. “There were other choices they could have made. But they chose your name because of who you are. What you stand for.”

“They do say you shouldn’t read your own press,” Pike said, trying for lightness, as he leaned in to read it anyway.

Michael huffed a laugh. “They do.” He straightened up, and caught up to her as she started walking into the park.

“So... you must be wondering why I brought you here. Why I wanted to show you that.”

“The thought had crossed my mind, yes.”

“When I came to this time... I was alone. I made... connections. Found love, even, for a time. But after the first few minutes, when I found out there was life here, and set that last signal? I had to let everything go. Everyone go. There was no Federation where I ended up – it wasn’t Terralysium, like we planned – the Federation was just a myth, really, since the Burn. I found meaning, looking for the cause of the Burn, but also, for the first time in my life there was no one to answer to. No rules to follow. No guilt,” she added, quieter. “It was hard but it was also liberating.” She looked up, then, to gauge his reaction. His eyes were warm, and he nodded, so she continued.

“It was different for the rest of the crew. Harder. They had each other, they had me, although—” she shook her head. “But they were in a ship whose shields could barely survive one hit. Their history had been erased. They felt like the waters might close over them and no one would even know or care that they had ever existed. It was tough, and to start with I couldn’t be who they needed me to be either.”

“I’m sure—” Pike started, but Michael stopped him. She smiled, wry, and cast her eyes down toward the path again. “Yes, I did do my best. But... it was nothing we had foreseen, you know? It wasn’t the future we thought we had secured.”

Michael took a breath, and looked at Pike. “It’s different again for you. I thought... given what happened on Boreth, given what you had to go through, that... That you should see, really see, that by being willing to serve, to sacrifice, to love – that by making those hard choices, you made a difference that _matters_. That’s what Pike City shows. You gave everything, and it mattered. It made a difference. I... I know it’s going to be hard for you, making your way in this time, like it has been for all of us in different ways, but—” She stopped still, looking him in the eye. “That’s why I brought you here.” She dropped her gaze, and turned to start walking again.

“Michael,” he said, taking hold of her hand, and she turned back to see that intensity in his blue eyes again, entirely focused on her. “It is hard. There is so much I don’t understand about this present. There are things I’m struggling with, big and little. There’s so much from my old life I still miss, but seeing this—it helps. I know it will take time. But I think... I think I’ll be glad to have this, to hold on to.” He half smiled in his disarming way. “Thank you.”

Michael stared into his eyes, feeling that gravity. She took a breath. “You’re—”

Suddenly Pike grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down, roughly, ducking down himself as something small flew above their heads.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes full of concern now.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What _was_ that?” Pike released her and they both straightened up, turning to see where the flying object had gone.

Pike huffed a laugh as he spotted it, and walked on to the grass to pick it up.

“A baseball,” he said, holding it out to her, “with that same P logo. When was the last time we talked about faith, Michael?” He grinned. “Because I refuse to believe this is a coincidence.”

She smiled too, taking the ball from him and running her fingers over the stitching. “But where—”

“Excuse me, ma’am, may we have our ball back?” A human girl, around ten, with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and a baseball bat in hand spoke. She was flanked by a human boy and a Vulcan boy, carrying a catcher’s mitt.

“Sure,” Michael said, holding it out.

“But you kids be more careful,” Pike added, voice stern but with a twinkle in his eyes. “You could have hurt my friend here. Maybe you should look around for somewhere safer to play.”

“I told them it was not logical to play in this part of the park,” the Vulcan boy said, and Michael was impressed at his control.

“Maybe you should listen to your friend next time,” Pike said, getting a couple of “yes sirs” in response. The children moved to leave, but he called them back.

“Just one more thing – what’s the logo on the ball?”

“The Pike City Pioneers,” the human boy said, obviously, staring at Pike with a look of disbelief.

“The best team on Cestus III,” the girl added.

“Where do they play?” Michael asked, and the Vulcan boy pointed down the path.

“The stadium is one kilometre that way,” he said. “We’re going to the home game this afternoon.”

Pike turned to Michael as the children ran away. “Well, fancy going to the game with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Michael replied.

* * *

There was something different between them now, Michael thought, as they sat high in the stands of Ruth Stadium, in a couple of the few available seats left, watching the Pike City Pioneers play the Prairieview Green Sox. The stadium was loud and lively, lots of fans, mostly for the home team, with holo screens showing plays from their game and others going on around the league. Chris insisted they get snacks; the Vulcan in her couldn’t quite accept a hotdog, but they got nachos to share instead, and beers. She ate a nacho, absently, part of her trying to work out what counted as a strike, and part really aware of him sitting, relaxed, beside her, leaning in a little.

Chris had chosen to spend time with her. He had chosen to trust her and let her take him on this trip. They had talked, they had both opened up some... Could there be more? Would he take that next step?

“Michael?” Chris asked in amused concern, and she started slightly. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere? I was just... thinking.” She turned to him and smiled, taking another nacho. “Nothing important.”

“All right,” he said, raising an eyebrow, blue eyes warm.

She moved back in her seat, slightly more toward him. “I’m trying to understand the appeal of the game. I can see there’s a lot of skill involved, but... for a sport where the idea is to hit the ball, a lot of batters don’t. We’ve had almost three innings so far. No one’s scored.”

Chris laughed. “I confess it’s not my favourite, but...”

They watched the next pitch, the last of the inning. The batter stood, loose, eye on the pitcher. He wound his bat back as the ball came toward him, and timed his swing perfectly, hitting the ball sailing into stands. The home crowd went wild, standing and cheering, as music played over the speakers, and a holocam showed a view of a spectator who had caught the ball, jumping up and down.

“But then something like that happens...” Chris took a pull of his beer.

“I suppose moments like that may make it worth it.” Michael smiled at him, and turned toward the holo screen to watch a replay.

The music changed, then, into a classic Earth love song... the sort of song that, as Captain, she felt was her cue to leave parties on _Discovery_. The holocam panned round the crowds, settling on two twenty-something human girls. Virtual pink hearts appeared round them on the screen, and when they finally realised they had been picked out, they kissed, to the cheers of the crowd.

The camera moved on, then, to a slightly older couple who looked embarrassed but amused, her finally giving him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“Brother and sister, I bet,” Chris said, thoughtful, as the camera moved to a human-Andorian couple, who laughed and kissed each other, to cheers again.

“So the rule is, if the camera stops on you, you kiss? “That’s...” she trailed off. She had been planning to say intrusive, or horrifying, but that honest part of her knew that if the camera stopped on them...

“That’s an old Earth custom. The kiss cam. Very old, now.” The music stopped as the next inning started. “But I imagine you consider public displays of affection to be... improper.” His voice went a little deeper, a little rougher.

Michael arched an eyebrow at him. “Well, I was raised on Vulcan. But that was a long time ago.”

“Good to know,” he replied, stretching his arm along the back of her seat.

Michael let herself relax, enjoying his closeness, dividing her attention between the game and him. When the Green Sox scored two from a home run during the sixth inning, she leaned back into him. And after the Pioneers drew back level in the seventh, Chris moved his arm round her shoulders.

“This okay?” He asked, softly, attention still ostensibly on the game.

“Yes,” she answered, equally softly. Not quite trusting herself to look round at him.

She watched the Pioneers pitcher strike out one, two, then three players in the ninth. The close contact, the excitement of the crowd at a close game, even the mild buzz from her beer... Michael felt like she was beginning to get it.

“Everything to play for, now,” Chris said, and they watched as the Green Sox pitcher struck out the first batter for the Pioneers.

The second batter missed the first ball, and Michael felt the tension rising in the stadium as the second strike was called. The batter seemed to feel it a little too as he took his cap off, ran his hand over short wiry curls, then put it back on again and resumed his stance. Michael knew there was still one batter to go, but still she held her breath. The batter squared his shoulders, swung, and hit the ball up and out, right over the stands and out the park.

The stadium erupted, Michael finding herself on her feet too as the crowd chanted “Yates, Yates”. She turned to Chris, standing by her, and everything else seemed to fall away as she got caught by the heat in his blue eyes.

He reached out, touching her cheek gently with his fingers, and she gasped slightly and brought her hand up to his chest. He closed the distance between them, fingers firming on her face as he brought their lips together in a kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as she kissed him back, wanting nothing more than to feel him, feel that heat, feel that spark that they had fan into flames. He pulled away, tilting his head before kissing her again, deeper, mouths opening, tongues brushing together. She made some noise into the kiss, and they pulled apart, both breathing hard, the rest of the world beginning to leak in a little. She dropped her hand, and he moved his arm back round her shoulders as they walked toward the transport point.

“So, uh... dinner. Do you want to try the local cuisine?” Michael looked up at Chris, raising an eyebrow. “Or shall we—?”

“Replicator,” said Chris, firmly, both of them laughing as they transported to the _Loire_.

* * *

Back on board the ship, laughing turned to Chris putting his arms around Michael and drawing her close, into another scorching kiss. She pressed in, arms going round his neck, learning the feel of his mouth, his lips. One of his hands pressed into her lower back as the other found her face again, and he broke the kiss, resting his forehead on hers.

“We finally got here,” Chris said, voice a little rough.

“We did.” Michael smiled, covering his hand on her face with hers. They stayed like that for a moment, close.

“I’ve been wanting this. For a while. But I had to make sure I could... find myself here, first. Does that make sense?”

“It does. I don’t want you to think I brought you to this time for this. You deserved your second chance.” She moved her head to look into his eyes, making sure he understood that. “There was so much for you to acclimate to. I didn’t want to push you.”

“You didn’t. You were... there for me, Michael.”

“And now we’re here together.” She kissed him again, soft, moving her hand to his face, tracing her fingers along his jawline. Feeling so much for him.

“So, replicator?” Chris pulled away a little, mouth quirked, still with heat in his eyes.

“Do you really want food right now?” Michael ran a finger over his lower lip.

“Hmm. Let me see if I’ve got the hang of this whole future thing. Computer, bedroom layout. One king–size bed.”

They kissed again as the _Loire_ rearranged around them.

Michael took a step back, legs hitting the bed. “Seems like you have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is very welcome <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [elen-aranel](https://elen-aranel.tumblr.com/)


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